Seven Devils
by ClearLikeButter
Summary: The Cardinal suspects the Queen's pregnancy is anything but a miracle and plots his revenge against her and the musketeers. Set after the evens of season 1.
1. Chapter 1

**Seven Devils**

**Summary: The Cardinal suspects the Queen's pregnancy is anything but a miracle and plots his revenge against her and the musketeers. D'Artagnan has trouble getting over his love for Constance, Porthos tries to get Flea to leave the court of miracles behind her like he did, Athos is still working out his issues with Milady and Aramis tries to find a way to keep the Queen and his future son safe. Set after the events of season 1. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine or there would be more episodes by now.**

**Lots of thanks to my beta Vesper**

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**Chapter 1: Heroes and Cons **

'_It's these musketeers who will ruin France'_ The Cardinal was impatiently pacing through his chambers. He'd said it before and now, as it turned out, he was right. Only a few days ago the Queen had spared his life because she believed in his sincere devotion to the country of France, but she'd soon regret her decision when it would be her and that _filthy_ Musketeer awaiting execution themselves.

The Cardinal wasn't a fool. He'd seen the way the Queen and that lowly Musketeer had stared at each other and he knew that the Queen's unexpected pregnancy was anything but a miracle. He just didn't have enough evidence to prove it yet. That's why he'd sent some of his best red guards to the monastery where the musketeers had been held under siege by the men he'd hired to kill the Queen. He'd also got someone to follow her and each of the four musketeers she seemed to have bonded with over the past few days since her rescue.

The Cardinal was sure that in a matter of days he'd finally have his revenge and then, with the Queen and those pesky musketeers out of the way, he'd finally be the most powerful man in France. The thought of this alone was enough to bring a big, sadistic grin to his face as he continued pacing through his chambers, waiting in anticipation for the news his men would bring him.

* * *

"Have you ever noticed that there's always the same group of people in the bar every night of the week?" Athos wondered aloud as he sat down at their usual table.

"Us," Porthos laughed as he removed his feet from the chair opposite him so D'Artagnan could sit down.

D'Artagnan followed Athos' gaze and saw a small group of four men standing around a table near the entrance of the bar. None of them had any drinks in their hands and they didn't seem to be conversing with each other either. He didn't recognize any of them.

"I haven't seen them before," he said, turning his attention back to his own friends, with the exception of Aramis, who'd been unusually quiet the past few days and was absent from their usual evening spent at the local tavern. "But that's probably because unlike you… I don't feel the need to come to here every night to drown my sorrows," he said in a jokey manner.

Porthos' heavy laughter echoed through the bar and he playfully punched D'Artagnan in the shoulder. "No, but waiting outside Madame Bonacieux's house all night in the hopes you might catch a glimpse of her is a much better way to drown your sorrows," he shot back.

D'Artagnan felt his cheeks turn red; he didn't know his friends were that well informed of his nightly activities. He looked at Athos who gave him a knowing smile. D'Artagnan could tell he was still bothered about the group of men he'd claimed to have seen before.

"Where's Aramis?" Porthos asked after a minute or two of silence. He turned around in his seat to see if his missing friend was anywhere in the bar, charming a woman perhaps, but found no one even looking the least bit similar to his best friend.

This seemed to draw Athos' attention away from the group of men he'd been eyeing suspiciously ever since they arrived. He knew exactly where Aramis was and why he hadn't come with them tonight. Ever since Aramis had said his farewells to the Queen a couple of days ago, the Musketeer hadn't been the same and everyone around him noticed it.

"He was feeling ill so he decided to stay at the garrison tonight," Athos explained. He was the only one who knew what had transpired between the Queen and Aramis and they had both silently agreed it should stay that way. Besides, Athos wasn't completely lying to his friends; Aramis really wasn't feeling all that well. In the past two days Athos had had to talk Aramis out of going back to the palace to see Queen Anne at least trice. Suddenly Athos couldn't remember why he'd thought it was a good idea for him to go to the bar whilst his love-struck friend was all alone back at the garrison. Unguarded.

"I'd better go check up on him," Athos suddenly announced as he jumped up from his seat.

Porthos eyed him warily. "We only just got here," he said. He had the same look on his face as the day that they had waited for Aramis near the palace, when they all thought he'd been saying goodbye to some other woman, Charlotte. Porthos clearly knew there was something amiss.

D'Artagnan on the other hand, didn't know Athos and Aramis nearly as well as Porthos did and seemed oblivious to whatever it was that was going on. "He's a grown man, I'm sure he can take care of himself," D'Artagnan smiled.

Athos sighed, keeping secrets from friends wasn't nearly as easy as he'd thought. Deciding not to start another discussion, he grabbed his hat from the table and bid both his friends a good night. They stared after him until he was out of sight.

It was a lot colder outside now that the sun had fully set. Athos wrapped his cloak tightly around his body, bidding goodnight to the small group of women that were chatting away outside. He quickly rounded a corner which led to a small ally behind the tavern. He pressed himself against the wall, waiting to see if any of the men he'd seen before would follow him. Instead he suddenly felt a strong arm wrapping itself around his neck and a gloved hand against his mouth to keep him from crying out. Athos was pulled further into the shadows. He was preparing to break free from his attackers death grip and fight back, when the arm around his neck loosened.

"We're being followed," Aramis whispered, shooting a glance over Athos' shoulder to see if anyone was eavesdropping.

Athos stared blankly at his friend before letting out heavy sigh. He was not amused.

"The men in the tavern," Athos finally answered, glad he wasn't the only one who had noticed something wasn't quite right.

If Aramis was surprised by Athos's knowledge he didn't show it "They've been following us around for at least two days," he added absentmindedly without looking at Athos. His thoughts went back to everything that had happened in those two days. From the Queen's kidnapping to her unsuspected pregnancy and especially the vile look he'd received from the cardinal when he found him and the Queen saying their farewells to each other.

After a minute or two, when it was clear nothing was going to happen and the men, whoever they were, still hadn't shown up, Athos loudly cleared his throat. This brought Aramis back to the present and he raised his eyebrows at his friend.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" he asked suspiciously.

"I was going to check up on you" Athos casually replied, looking his friend straight in the eye.

"I'm touched," Aramis mocked as he placed his right hand over his heart with a big grin plastered on his face. "You were afraid I was going to sneak away and visit the palace weren't you?" he added after a beat.

Athos noticed Aramis use of the word 'palace' instead of naming the person he was really going to visit but decided to let it go for now.

"Were you?" he asked his friend sincerely.

Aramis pretended to be hurt, but it wasn't long before he started grinning again "Nah, wouldn't dream of it." He patted Athos on the shoulder and together the musketeers took off towards the garrison.

Neither of them paid any mind to the small, blonde haired woman who was the only one left of the small group Athos had crossed before. Flea was sure there was some good money to be made by passing this information through to the right people.

**To be continued…**

Reviews are always welcome


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or started following this story. Please keep on reviewing so I know my story is actually being read! I hope it'll live up to all of your expectations. Also a big thank you to my beta Vesper, I'd be lost without her. **

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**Chapter Two: Runaways**

Flea's eyes darted around nervously. She hated leaving the Court of Miracles and yet she had done so twice already in the past week. It had all started with a threat, not directly from the Cardinal himself of course; he had men to handle that sort of dirty work for him. With Charon dead, it was somehow silently agreed upon by the Court's inhabitants that she was to be their new leader. That was why she was the one who received the letter threatening to lay waste to the entire court and its people unless she'd agree to use her 'specific talents' in aid of the Cardinal's scheme.

Flea was well aware of how far the Cardinal's powers reached and there was no doubt in her mind that he would carry out his threat without a second thought. That, and the promise of good money was enough to convince her to head over to the abandoned market square late one night to receive further instructions. Again, it wasn't the Cardinal himself waiting for her, but a heavily built, bald man whose eye-patch made him look somewhat like a pirate.

The assignment was easy enough, spy on some musketeer and meet up with Mr Pirate once a week to pass through any useful information and get paid. Flea felt a tinge of guilt when she thought of Porthos, but he was also a musketeer after all and she herself had never trusted the men in blue. Besides the regiment had grown larger and larger over the last few years; Porthos couldn't possibly be friends with all of them, if he had any friends at all that was. He claimed he did, but she refused to believe that noble men like the musketeers would ever truly accept someone with a background like his into their midst.

With that in mind and the final threat that if she refused to cooperate or ever implicated the Cardinal in any form or shape that she'd pay with her life, Flea set off on her new mission.

Now standing outside the tavern where she'd just heard the musketeer, 'Aramis', who she was supposed to follow, converse with one of his friends about visiting the palace, she was strongly doubting her decision to take part in this mad scheme. Of course she recognized the two musketeers from before. They had come for Porthos the first time there was a threat against the existence of the court.

"_That doesn't mean that they're friends with Porthos"_ She thought to herself _"It's only their duty to protect each other." _Besides, Flea was sure passing this information through to Mr Pirate would earn her enough money to live on for at least two months, which was a lot if you didn't have anything.

With a heavy sigh, she dismissed all thoughts of Porthos and decided to stick to her original motto, a motto that Porthos once shared with her: 'Never trust the law, never trust the musketeers'.

* * *

D'Artagnan and Porthos left the tavern not long after Athos had taken off and the Musketeers' newest recruit, instead of heading straight back to the garrison, claimed he still had an important errand to run and would meet up with the rest of them at breakfast. They both knew that it was a lie and that he was really going to walk by Madame Bonacieux's house a couple of times to make sure she was alright.

As usual, D'Artagnan hid himself behind a tree near the house for if Constance's husband ever found out what D'Artagnan was doing almost every night, there'd be hell to pay. Not to mention what reaction Constance herself would have if she ever found out he was practically stalking her. After about an hour nearly freezing to death without a sign of life from within the house, D'Artagnan wisely decided to return to the garrison for some much needed sleep.

"I can see you, you know," a familiar voice whispered in his ear. D'Artagnan stumbled backwards into the tree with a loud yelp "Keep quiet!" the familiar voice chided him. D'Artagnan couldn't believe his eyes, before him stood Constance Bonacieux, her face half hidden in the shadows. She was staring at him defiantly with both her hands placed firmly on her hips.

"How did you manage to sneak up on me like that?" were the first words he could muster up, still shocked that the tiny woman had managed to get the drop on him.

Constance rolled her eyes in annoyance "Only a blind person would've missed you standing here every bloody night of the week!" she exclaimed. D'Artagnan stared down at his feet, nervously shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He hadn't expected to be caught.

"You're lucky my husband hasn't seen you!" Constance continued, although her tone softened when she noticed D'Artagnan's discomfort. "You shouldn't be here D'Artagnan." She gently placed a hand on his cheek and made him look at her again.

D'Artagnan nodded. "I know, but I just wanted to make sure you were safe." It wasn't a complete lie, if he couldn't be with her at least he'd make sure she was safe and happy.

Constance smiled at him. "I can take care of myself." Her eyes were already tearing up when she suddenly gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Please don't come here anymore D'Artagnan." With that, she took off towards the house and he couldn't do anything to stop her without taking the risk of being discovered.

At the door, Constance quickly wiped her tears always before entering and didn't look back.

D'Artagnan stood there, leaning against the tree for another five minutes, silently praying Constance would change her mind, but nothing happened. So, with a heavy heart he turned around and was about to go back to the garrison when he saw something moving from the corner of his eyes, it was a dark shape in the form of a man, but he once he'd fully turned around to take a good look, everything was quiet.

"Anyone there?" he softly called out. There was no answer.

* * *

Aramis rolled over to his other side again, then with a heavy sigh he sat up. He'd been twisting and turning all night, he couldn't sleep. The sun had just started to rise and his guard duty wouldn't start for another three or four hours. He sighed again running a hand through his messy hair; getting some more sleep was definitely out of the question. He could hear Porthos and Athos snoring through the thin walls of his room as if they were having a contest to see who was loudest.

'_She's not a woman, she's the Queen!" _Porthos's voice echoed through his head. Both he and Athos had warned him many times that perusing the Queen could only end in disaster and God knew Aramis had tried to stay away from her, but somehow he failed. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame; he was in love.

He'd never openly admit this to anyone, but Aramis of the King's musketeers was indeed in love with the Queen of France.

"_Look at what's become of us" _he chuckled. All four of them were miserable because of the women they'd once loved or still loved, but could never have.

Slowly, Aramis got up and dressed himself in his usual uniform. Normally he liked to sleep in, but today he'd treat himself to an early breakfast. His friends were probably already there and would hopefully provide some distraction.

Once he stepped outside, he deeply inhaled the cold winter air. Snow was threatening to fall from the dark clouds above him and the frozen ground crunched under the weight of his boots as he made his way across the courtyard. Like he had suspected, his friends were already enjoying their meal, except for D'Artagnan. The youngest musketeer liked sleeping in even more then Aramis did!

"Good morning," Athos politely greeted when Aramis sat down next to him. The thing Aramis loved most about Athos is that he never asked questions, unlike D'Artagnan, who had a talent for asking the wrong questions at the wrong time and unlike Porthos, who didn't really ask questions, but didn't keep quiet either.

"You're up early," Porthos stated, his eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter. Aramis glared at him and was about to come up with a witty comeback when the door to the mess hall opened with a loud bang. Aramis could feel the coldness from outside quickly spreading through the room.

"Close the door boy," he heard Athos say in a commanding tone that sounded as chilly as the cold wind from outside. Aramis turned around to see who had entered and why Athos already seemed to dislike this person. In the doorway stood William Lacy. The young raven haired boy was a messenger in the service of the Cardinal and often the bearer of bad news.

Every eye in the room was trained on poor William, waiting for him to make his announcement. This only seemed to make the boy even more nervous than usual "I…..I'm lo…..looking for S….Sir Aramis of the King's Musketeers," he finally stammered.

With that everyone seemed to snap out of their trance and continued their breakfast activities. All except for Porthos, Athos and Aramis himself.

"I'm Aramis," he said, stepping forward and the boy bowed down to him as if he was the King himself.

Missing the bemused glance Porthos and Athos shared behind his back, Aramis rolled his eyes, grabbed William by his shoulders and hauled him back up. "There's no need for that," he told the young boy gently, who was still quaking in his boots from nervousness.

William took a few deep breaths to calm himself and managed to deliver his message to Aramis without stuttering. "The Cardinal wishes to speak with you, sir."

Aramis frowned, why on earth would the Cardinal want to speak with him? Unless….the colour drained from his cheeks, the room started spinning around him, the Cardinal couldn't have found out could he? Unable to utter another word he desperately turned around to face Athos.

Athos shared his friends worry, but somehow managed to keep his emotions in check; his face didn't betray any emotion. "Did he say what it was about?" he asked William.

"He has something that belongs to Sir Aramis and would like to return it to him," William answered simply, not noticing when the two musketeers shared a worried glance.

**To be continued...**


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